<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Vlad's Drunk Escapades by starrynomin</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27654296">Vlad's Drunk Escapades</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrynomin/pseuds/starrynomin'>starrynomin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gaya Sa Pelikula (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Drinking, M/M, contains spoilers!!!, drunk vlad, heard vlad's "im baby" once and this happened, mention of vomit/puke, theres angst if u squint, theyre boyfriends here no one can stop me</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:01:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,530</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27654296</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrynomin/pseuds/starrynomin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Karl suddenly starts reminiscing about his boyfriend's drunk moments. </p><p>Alternative title: Vlad's Drunk (yet adorable) Escapades.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Karl Frederick Almasen/Jose Vladimir Austria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Vlad's Drunk Escapades</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>help im still not over gaya sa pelikula's ending ;; it was so good and heart wrenching and ambiguous that i couldnt stop myself from imagining what their life could've been like after all that. so this takes place years after the last scene, where everything's better but not perfect, and they decided to give it another chance. keep in mind this is my own interpretation and it's purely fiction.</p><p>if i ever made any mistakes with their characters, the messages being portrayed by this fic or anything at all, please let me know xx</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With a heavy and drunk Vlad over his shoulder, Karl pushes their unit’s door open through a strained groan. They had been out for a celebration of sorts, an after-party for their first win in a prestige film awards that was truly, utterly unexpected. But their team was so elated that they jumped out of their seats, unprofessionally and embarrassingly so, as the director and writer couple climbed up the stage with huge smiles–that was the moment that led all of this.</p><p>And by this, that meant Vlad reeking in alcohol and sweat, his white suit that was otherwise crisp and dapper now a mess, a few buttons undone with his tie slightly loose, as he let his barely conscious state drive half of his weight over his boyfriend.</p><p>The keys jingle, ringing in Vlad’s ears irritatingly so. A small whine thrums past his reddening throat and Karl rolls his eyes at that, plodding together into their home in aching exhaustion. Once the grayish couch had come into view, his savior, Karl musters his remaining strength and dumps his boyfriend onto it like he was throwing a dead body over a bridge.</p><p>Vlad’s been drunk before, they’re way past the honeymoon stage of their relationship too–he’ll survive, he’ll be fine. Karl lets out a sigh of relief, stretching his sore shoulders as Vlad stirs in his sleep, his limbs everywhere in awkward places, blearily grabbing orca and yet he doesn’t awaken. The moment the aching had settled down, the soft spot he has for his boyfriend tingles in his chest.</p><p>“You’re lucky I love you,” Karl muttered and doesn’t waste another second into fixing his boyfriend into a more comfortable position.</p><p>Long, careful fingers brace against Vlad’s ankles, gently prompting them up to the couch’s arm, and he moves to lay his arms over his chest, unlacing his shoes, taking the pillows away and placing them to the carpet to make more space. But just as Karl could pull orca away from his boyfriend’s arms, the latter’s grip tightened around it with an endearing frustrated whine, “No, no, no. Mine…”</p><p>Vlad’s socked feet (adorned with patterns of little pancakes with smiley faces) start kicking and thrashing around like a child throwing a fit. Karl has half a mind to bite back, but instead settles on rolling his eyes for the nth time that hour.</p><p>“Vlad, come on,” Karl retorted, albeit amused. “Let’s head up. You can’t sleep here.”</p><p>As much as Karl loves him (and he loves him to death, he could promise that much), he still wants to spend the rollercoaster of a night in the comforts of his bed, where his thick blankets and soft pillows could pull him into the gentle waves of the beckoning dark with his stars and moon by his side–none other but Vlad himself.</p><p>But said stars and moon is still half-asleep, half-stubborn, and completely drunk, with orca between his lean arms and shallowly heaving chest.</p><p>“Yes, I can,” Vlad slurred, “Watch me.”</p><p>Chuckling, Karl fondly shakes his head and moves to get himself out of his itchy suit. He starts by loosening his tie, followed by unbuttoning his dark jacket, and just before he could stride towards their closet, he feels a grip on his wrist.</p><p>Karl freezes at that, confused. He’s then met with an even whinier Vlad, face scrunched in annoyance as red tints bloom in his fluffy cheeks and ears, “I said <em>watch me!</em>”</p><p>Vlad’s got that look on his face, the look that Karl’s oh so weak for; starry pleading eyes, a pout on his lush lips, with a high flush that makes him glow beautifully under their apartment’s lights.</p><p>A smile graces across Karl’s face, soft and fond. He’s never been able to refuse him anyway. Playfully and tenderly, he presses his boyfriend’s red nose, “You big baby.”</p><p>“I’m baby,” Vlad eagerly nods, but his eyes slowly fall shut, his voice crumbling lower, barely above a whisper, “Your baby.”</p><p>Just like in the movies, their moment is so perfectly calm and sweet, the air filled with a love so beautiful and gentle that it pulls them into one another, makes Karl’s heart race against his chest, makes Vlad feel so reassured in his life for once, makes them feel content, makes them feel at home. Karl weakly nods at that, his soft smile never leaving as he intertwines their hands above Vlad’s chest, as he whispers into the universe, “My baby.”</p><p>Karl’s drunk and stubborn and adorable baby, but his nonetheless. Vlad getting shit-faced is not a new discovery anyway, something he’s seen more times than he could count.</p><p>Their second encounter just had to be like so: Karl wracking his mind to come up with <em>something</em>, anything to satisfy his client, but then music boomed from the unit beside him and the rest was history. For the first time in his life, Karl saw someone so free, so unchained from the filthy hands of society, dancing to the upbeat music from his speakers with a bottle in hand. Just like tonight, his cheeks were flushed and he glistened like a blooming rose under the midnight sky.</p><p>The next time had to be that time during Christmas, which also happened to be Vlad’s birthday. Vlad had sent him numerous childish (but cute) messages, then a couple of videos of him threatening to ruin their decorations were all it took for Karl to finally call back.</p><p>Vlad was obviously, painstakingly, drunk off his ass. He was needier, whinier, acting like a spoiled child that would throw a tantrum if refused of anything by anyone–and it just so happened that Karl was who he wanted. His attention, his time, everything.</p><p>They made up the day after, but another drunk escapade followed when a scheduled power interruption struck. Vlad and Anna were chatting and drinking in the gazebo, which Karl soon joined in after confidential (embarrassing) reasons. They talked, poured and danced their hearts out. Vlad wasn’t as drunk as Anna, but he still counts it as his, or more specifically, their slightly tipsy escapade.</p><p>And the most memorable one yet has to be when they broke off whatever they had, prolonged till the first day of their semester, and Karl awoke to a loud banging and shouting against his door. He had grabbed his ruler, a defensive stance intact and even as fear coursed through his veins, he opened it. Another Drunk Vlad greeted him that night.</p><p>A drunk, heartbroken Vlad who told him, “You’re not my ex.”</p><p>Reliving that moment hurts like a million needles pushing into his heart, but it’s nothing compared to that wretched night itself.</p><p>
  <em>“You’re not my ex.”</em>
</p><p>The words rung in Karl’s ears, a punch to his gut, a squeeze to his heart. Tears brimmed in his eyes but he refused, refused to show any hint of weakness or vulnerability, refused to show his true self. And that was okay.</p><p>“I’m not your ex.”</p><p>Karl didn’t know what to feel that night: joy, now that his Vlad was back after so long and that he didn’t rush back to his sketchy ex-boyfriend; sadness, for the fact that he never became his ex because they never knew what they had in the first place, more than friends but less than lovers, a relationship that no matter what Vlad did, it just wasn’t enough for it to be labeled, for it to have a proper name that they deserved.</p><p>It’s not Karl’s fault, it’s not Vlad’s too. They know that more than anyone now.</p><p>But there was no longer any point in reliving the past. No use in crying over spilled milk. What’s done is done. At least, they’re here now; Karl quietly reminiscing more of his boyfriend’s drunk escapades as said boyfriend unconsciously gives him another one to add to the list.</p><p>Karl calls it the “<strong>Vlad’s Drunk (<strike>yet adorable</strike>) Escapades</strong>” and it includes the following:</p><p>It was the day before Valentine's. Ate Judit requested they’d throw a party of sorts, since she wants to spend the day with her brother and brother-in-law, but also without selfishly taking the special day away from them. She also invited Anna, along with tito Sants as always, and they played games, drank an odd mix of booze (that Vlad insisted he learned from a friend and that it tastes <em>so good, trust me</em>), till their heart’s content and their stomachs turned against them.</p><p>The warm air seemed to suffocate Karl in the living room, creating tension between his shoulder blades from all the noise and flashing lights, but he didn’t want to leave just yet. He chose to drink alone in the kitchen first, grabbing a glass of water. Tito Sants hands him another bottle to which he gladly accepts with a nervous smile.</p><p>On his third sip, Karl had suddenly felt a presence beside him. With a low, raspy voice, the man asked, “Hey, pretty boy. You come here often?”</p><p>Vlad looked debauched. The familiar pretty tint of his cheeks and ears showcasing themselves again, his hair messier than usual, with two more buttons undone that were purposefully done to <em>seduce</em> him. Awe-stricken by how endearing his boyfriend was, Karl’s long lashes fluttered, innocently blinking back, “I live here.”</p><p>“Cool,” Vlad nodded, unfazed. “Wanna date?”</p><p>A tiny chuckle stifled from Karl. He pondered for a moment, weighing out his options, either to ride along or break this drunk man’s heart. He had decided on the latter, turning the tables from the last time Vlad got drunk. With a merciless and teasing smile, Karl replied, “I have a boyfriend.”</p><p>That seemed to have done the trick. Defeated, Vlad blinked back, “Oh.”</p><p>Karl echoed with a nod, heartless, ever teasing, “Oh.”</p><p>With that, drunk Vlad instinctively decided to respect that and trudged back into the living room, shoulders slumped and with his tail between his legs like a kicked, surrendering puppy.</p><p>Soon after that, amidst the party music and pink party lights, ate Judit's voice interjected as she glanced over the couch, “Vlad, dear, what did you do?” Her feign accent was still there, but concern dripped from her every word as she tried to console Vlad, “Why is my brother crying?”</p><p>Suppressing his laugh, Karl responded before sipping from his beer again, “He was hitting on me but I kindly told him I have a boyfriend already.”</p><p>Vlad wailed louder at that, crying into his sister’s shoulder, body shaking and face flushed vibrantly red. Ate Judit patted Vlad’s back, then slowly asked, “But.. aren’t you two dating?”</p><p>Karl nodded, teeth biting into his lip, “He’s <em>very</em> drunk.”</p><p>That night did make Karl’s heart do tiny flips, maybe just as much as the next drunk escapade that took place on their Halloween party. Anna, ate Judit, tito Sants, and a few more staff from their production team were invited over to their flat. Booze was, of course, like in any other party, was expected and it was everywhere. Vlad took that shining opportunity in the first hour of the party.</p><p>After all, they haven’t had much time to cut loose and feel free from all their work and deadlines. Vlad, in particular, took most of the pressure as director and so Karl knew better than to expect seeing a sober Vlad that night. He’d have to wait for the morning to come, when the sun seeps through the curtains and pools into their bed like a lake of warm kisses against their skin, before he’d be able to hold a proper conversation with him.</p><p>The party had ended and Karl bid them farewell with a clingy Vlad wrapped around his arm, all whiny for his attention, “They’re adults! They could go home by themselves, pancake!”</p><p>With an awkward tight-lipped smile, Karl waits till everyone’s out before finally, finally, closing the door in relief. As soon as he did, Vlad threw up. On him. Again.</p><p>When everything was put back to place, the dishes done and the floor squeaky clean (by none other but Karl himself), they snuggled up to each other on their bed, the lights dim and the quiet symphony of the night lulling them to sleep.</p><p>That is until Vlad began stirring, detangling his limbs from Karl’s with faint groans and a drowsy, annoyed expression.</p><p>“Vlad!” Karl hissed, tiredly sitting himself up from the siren call of his mattress, “Come back to bed, Vlad.”</p><p>But the man continued to walk, nearing the stairs but he didn't make it.</p><p>“No, thank you,” Vlad murmured, eyes shut as he stood a good five feet away from their bed. “Although I’m sure you’re really handsome yourself, I already have a boyfriend.”</p><p>And then proceeded to plop himself to the cold ground, knocked out in a blink of an eye, a series of heavy yet contented snores drawing out from his drunk and unconscious state.</p><p>There were more Drunk Vlad Escapades (trademark), but if Karl had to name the best ones yet, he has to say that those took the bag, including this one. No better time than the present, where their hands interlace into one another, their work the good kind of tiring, and the rush and sparks between them never dying.</p><p>With a proud yet dopey smile across Vlad’s radiant face, he drifts off to sleep. In there, among his perfect dreams, he has Karl all to himself, no prying eyes for them to be cautious of, as they play around their apartment and they could speak their love so loud that it could move mountains and shake the ground for all they care.</p><p>It’s a dream of his, better than the harsh reality, but it’s not something he’d ever trade.</p><p>Their love story could be compared to a film, playing on the big screen for millions to watch, but it’s theirs. And nothing else matters.</p><p>Through Karl’s road to acceptance and self-discovery, they tried anew. A second chance, just like in those romantic movies they used to watch for fun or to fill the boredom of their restless nights.</p><p>It took some time, but it didn’t matter. Karl has found his way home and it’s here, in their cozy rented apartment with Vlad sleeping soundly, their dreams and aspirations right out the door.</p><p>For this love isn’t perfect, but it’s more than enough for the both of them. The love they deserve. The love they speak, either in proud shouts or hushed whispers–it’s a love that needs no judgment, no criticism, for love is love, it is what it is no matter how you look at it.</p><p>“Goodnight, Vlad,” Karl leans in with a smile. He inches closer and closer, ready to press their noses together, his own way of expressing his love for him, but then Vlad jerks forward.</p><p>No, not to kiss him. Vlad would never do that without his consent.</p><p>But to puke at him.</p><p>Karl and the suit gets covered in reeking vomit and all he gets is an amused but tired laugh from Vlad–and then it’s lights out.</p><p>Nevertheless, Karl doesn’t change his mind. This Drunk Vlad Moment just climbed a step higher on the list.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Liberating love and equal rights. The real fight is outside. We will welcome you when you're ready.</p><p>-Gaya sa Pelikula, S1E8. </p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://twitter.com/starrynomin"> twt </a><br/><a href="https://t.co/0MCrJUFs0l?amp=1"> cc </a><br/><a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/rjstarrynomin">  tumblr  </a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>